


Sleeping and Waking

by MissCeliaKnight



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Cabeswater - Freeform, F/M, M/M, Multi, Psychological Horror, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-09-29 10:12:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17201576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissCeliaKnight/pseuds/MissCeliaKnight
Summary: Gansey had started blacking out when it rained heavily, as if his consciousness was experiencing joint pains. He'd wake up, unsure of where he'd been or what he'd been doing.





	Sleeping and Waking

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RandyKorn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RandyKorn/gifts).



> For the TRC Gift Exchange  
> This takes place after The Raven King

Gansey woke up in the middle of the night again. He’d started blacking out, typically when it rained heavily, as if his consciousness was experiencing joint pains. His throat would feel as if he’d just finished vomiting, yet there was no bitter taste in his mouth. It burned in a way that water couldn’t put out, something sticking like sinew to bone against his Adam’s apple.

He scrubbed his face with his hands, unmade bed sheets wound around his legs as if to hold him in place, keep him from escaping. He untangled himself and got up. He surveyed his room in the dark, ears straining, ringing to fill the silence, to devastate his subconscious with ideas of things that weren’t there.

Cave diving theoretics in his own room.

He felt hazy, giving an exhale. He heard the noise, felt his chest move, but didn’t feel the breath leave him. He didn’t understand how he could wake up and immediately start dissociating while also in a state of panic. He reached for his phone.

Missing.

He hesitated by his light switch. If he turned on the lights while it was still dark, without natural light, something would be wrong. Something he wasn’t supposed to see would know he was aware of it. It would come for him. Something slithered in his gut.

He didn’t turn on the light.

He slipped out of the door and closed it behind him, as if shutting the feeling out in the other room. It crawled underneath the door like a shadow and clung to the back of his scalp. He quietly peered into every room, but he was the only one in Monmouth II. This happened every time he was the only one here. It made him feel delirious. No one was around to witness his blackouts, to tell him everything would be alright and turn the lights on.

He felt absurd. He wasn’t going to turn the damn lights on.

His phone rang, Madonna screaming out into the kitchen, Gansey startling and diving for it. He didn’t know what time it was. He didn’t bother to check. The floor was cold. It shouldn’t have been cold, it was July. He answered the phone, hung up. He held his breath. Nothing. He held the phone like a sword hilt to his chest as he made his way to the supply closet. His clothing closet was a walk in, too big. He could hide The Barns in that closet.

He called Henry back.

“Hey Gansey boy, you good? You dun goofed and hit the wrong button and hung up on me, you know. You taking a midday nap or something?” Gansey peered out of the closet. It was in no way midday. It was dark. Should it have been dark? He collected himself, pulling memories from his head like like a hangnail between teeth.

“...Henry I need you to not make jokes like that, please.” His vision fogged. Something crackled on the other line.

“I mean, it’s midday over here. Time zones and all that.” Henry shouted something at Blue, who could be heard calling him a killjoy. He missed them. He felt like the closet was shrinking.

“...I know.” His voice sounded like more like a whimper than a reply.

“...You okay?” Henry asked softly. Gansey sniffed, eyes welling up. He couldn’t see through the fog of his tears. The last time he tried to drive the Pig when he felt like this, the fog on the road had been so thick he almost hit a deer. He’d been right in front of it, newly changed brakes screaming in protest.

He could see it’s pupils adjust he was so close. It sat there, like a warning. He’d come home. He wasn’t allowed to leave when he felt like this. He was sure that was what that meant. If he went out and it was that foggy again, he wasn’t sure if he could take it.

“I’m here.” Gansey replied. He wasn’t okay. He wasn’t sure where here even was. The mop knocked against him.

“I’m just letting you know our flight back got delayed. Some crappy weather conditions over on your end. Come on Gansey baby, don’t you know you gotta tell Ronan to get his god-like shit together, all in a shit pile which he should have no problem doing since he’s a farmer, and hold off on it for a day so we can put on really bad fashion shows for you with all of the crap we bought?” Henry asked, voice fading out as if Gansey had been plunged underwater. He panicked. Blue spoke.

“It’s fantastic— I bought you some ties. I hate them and want to burn them, so you’ll love them.” She’d taken the phone. It was fine. Nothing was wrong. He’d woken up right before their call. He wondered if that was unusual or just coincidence. Everything felt too intentional like this, too well planned.

He was supposed to be with them right now. He felt isolated. They hadn’t been able to find his passport, then paperwork for shots, then something with his family doctor, then an issue with getting his new passport.

Next time, they’d agreed. He’d drive to the Barns, bother Ronan. Ronan was with Adam for the week he had off from college, Sorry Gans, thought you were going overseas or I’d have taken you with. Miss you, though. We love you. Uninvited.

Gansey leaned his head against the wall.  A delayed hollow thud. He tried to recreate the noise. It wasn’t delayed, but was softer than the first. He peered out of the closet again, holding his breath.

“...Gansey? Helloooo, can you hear me?” Blue cut in.

“...Yes, I hear you Jane.” He promised, voice soft. He wondered if he was having a psychotic break. Maybe he should get a therapist. Or was it a psychiatrist? Or whichever one of them could give him medication after he told them his conspiracy theory of being forced to be alone. It had only been a week.

“Say again? You sound far away.” She requested.

“...Please, just keep talking— Both of you? Even if it’s not to me?”

* * *

“I FOUND HIM!” Ronan hollard, Gansey wincing at his volume, bright midday light behind him hailing him as anything but a saint. “Gans, what the _fuck_ are you doing?” Ronan asked, crouching down in the doorway of the supply closet to hold his face in his hands and inspect him.

“I—”  Gansey didn’t know what he was doing. Ronan’s hands felt like sandpaper that had lost almost all of their edges. He tried to remember the last thing he did. He glanced down to look for his phone in spite of Ronan’s hold. He didn’t have his phone.

The thought of signal interference hit him. Interfering with what? He always lost his phone after a blackout.

“Adam and I drive all the way out here because numbnut one and two said they couldn’t find you.” Ronan glared over his shoulder at them, then turned his attention back to Gansey, the glare lessened, whittled away with worry.

“No, no _fuck you._ I _checked_ that damn closet. I checked under the beds, I checked the _freaky_ crawlspace, he was _not_ in that damn closet.” Blue snapped back at him. “ _That’s why we called you._ ” She enunciated, as if Ronan had forgone English for his Latin.

“Gansey if it’s a game, that’s not funny. You really scared us.” Adam mumbled, Henry next to him violently chewing on his silver necklace and spinning a ring on his finger. Ronan was still holding his face in his hands. He hadn’t answered any of them.

“...Gans?” He asked softly. Ronan could always see the gears spinning, the mechanism working. It pulled a lever, Gansey’s face scrunching up.

“I...I fell asleep in the closet.” He mumbled, but it sounded more as if he was questioning it than supplying answers. He pulled away from Ronan, standing up. “I’m sorry, I don’t… I didn’t mean to worry you all. Thank you for looking for me, but I’m fine now.” Now. He hadn’t been in the closet. What the hell was he doing if he hadn’t been in the closet?

“...So that’s it?” Adam asked, brows furrowed. “You freak everyone out and it’s a thank you all for coming? That’s it?”

“I apologized.” Gansey mumbled, voice softer than he would have liked. His bit the side of his tongue to keep his jaw from locking up. He didn’t want to fight with him. Gansey started looking for his phone.

“I’m gonna nap.” Henry decided, but it sounded like an excuse to be alone for a moment. He’d been overwhelmed by whatever had gone through his head. Gansey had gone missing and words collected in his head until the organization of them all spilled out into an unintelligible mess in his throat— he couldn’t use any of them in his panic. Blue noticed how he kept squeezing each of his fingers, as if to check and see if they were all there. He’d hesitate when it came to his right index finger with a scar by his third knuckle.

She reattached him to reality. They’d find him. Henry wasn’t his mother. He’d have paid to get him back. He’d have lost everything of value to have something back that really mattered to him. He loved him. They all did. Henry loved him more, even if no one would admit it outright.

“You want me to put our stuff away?” Blue offered, Henry shaking his head as he went into their bedroom. Gansey had closed the door earlier. It was open. They probably opened it looking for him. He needed to relax. His phone wasn’t on the counter.

“Have you seen my phone?” He asked no one in particular, moving couch cushions.

“No seriously, that’s it?” Adam asked Ronan. “We just piss off back to our own lives now that he’s done scaring the living daylights out of everyone?” He said it loud enough for Gansey to hear. He was saying it to Gansey, even if it had been directed at Ronan. “Should I expect a formal apology in the mail, is that how this is being handled?”

Ronan brushed past Adam and grabbed for Gansey. “Sit on the couch, we’ll find your phone.” He tried to sit him down, watching how Gansey’s eyes tried to look through his arm. Ronan had been friends with Gansey while their bones were still growing, synapses snapping together the way their hands always had. He’d had time to learn all of his tick, tick, tickings, his obsessions and how they overtook him, strangled him like a rosebush.

Ronan knew the distinctions between a hyperfixation and Gansey desperately clinging to an eel underwater for any semblance of normalcy, of a grounding tether to reality that kept escaping him. This meant he knew something was wrong. His eel currently was his phone. Ronan had loved him the longest, even if no one would admit it outright.

“His phone is on the dresser in the bedroom by his wallet.” Blue cut in, putting her things away, Henry’s untouched. She didn’t look at them as she answered.

“Was it there before you found me?” Gansey asked, getting right back up off of the couch.

“No, you threw it under the bed.” Blue offered, a bite in her voice that would turn into a scar once they stopped the bleeding. Gansey walked into their bedroom, Henry laying down, nose to his phone, not actually attempting to sleep. Gansey’s phone was dead. He put it on the charger and sat on the edge of the bed.

The house felt heavy, overbearing. The roof was going to collapse.

“...You really scared us, you know.” Henry mumbled, video playing, sound off. He put his phone down and turned over, wrapping his arms around Gansey’s middle and hiding his face against his back. Gansey placed his fingers over Henry’s.

He wasn’t sure if he should tell them or if it would come off as attention seeking. That’s what they already thought this was. He knew Blue and Adam were just worried, but he didn’t feel like now was the appropriate time to try to explain, especially not without having answers to supply them with.

“...How long was I in call with you two for?” He asked, Henry tugging him down to the bed and coiling around him.

“Till it died, I think. We thought you fell back asleep, but Blue said you wanted us as background noise.” Gansey hummed, vaguely remembering requesting they stay with him, but certainly not to fall asleep. He could hear the bass of Ronan’s voice brushing against his ribs as he spoke to Adam and Blue.

Secrets.

His phone turned on. He leaned over, Henry untangling one of his arms from him so he could grab for it. It loaded up, taking it’s time. His lock screen of everyone was missing, the generic, just out of the box one in its place. It didn’t want his passcode. He narrowed his eyes and unlocked it.

Everything in it had been deleted.

* * *

He thought maybe it was carbon monoxide poisoning, but a quick detector told him everything was fine. He quietly set up an appointment to talk to someone without Henry or Blue noticing, Adam and Ronan too far away from where they lived to even have to attempt to hide it from them.

When he went, he was told this kind of thing wasn’t uncommon. He had been under a lot of stress and never properly addressed what happened to him as a child. He felt responsible for everyone, yet never took the time to do that for himself. In high school, he always had some kind of distraction. School work, Ronan, his hunt for Glendower. Now, he had more free time and less of a schedule, which meant his body decided that it was going to try to process what happened to him since he wasn’t allowing any other part of himself to do it. It was scary, but not unheard of.

He just needed to process.

He just needed his psychiatrist to prescribe him something. That or part of him was just expecting her to tell him what he wanted to hear. He was so used to magic being involved that normal solutions seemed implausible. He wanted to hear that she didn’t know what was wrong, that it was outside the realm of possibility.

He decided to ask Maura. Gwenllian had greeted him at 300 Fox Way first, tittering about how the little prince had returned from his conquest of worms. “Conquest of worms?” He asked with a raised brow. He hadn’t bothered to try to reach for the door handle, not with her blocking the way on the front step.

“They roll around in the dirt, in the soil— haven’t you sprouted yet, _little_ seeeeed? Is your pot _too_ small?” The lilt in her voice jumped around as if she was hanging from a tree, violently trying to remove all of the leaves from it in the middle of summer.

“I don’t know, have I sprouted?” He asked her, not quite sure where she was going with this, but it never hurt to humor her.

“ _Not_ _you_ — _shhhhhh-hush_.” She snapped at him, which only further confused Gansey. Perhaps she was speaking to something he couldn’t see, or to herself. But she’d addressed him with the title of prince as she liked to do.

“...I’m going inside now. May I do that?” She rolled her tongue at him, but said nothing more. He went inside. He’d called ahead of time. Even if he hadn’t, the rumble of the pig or Blue’s dream copy Mockup always gave him away. Maura greeted him, ever pleasant with a wave, a cup of midday coffee in her hands as she sat at the table.

“I was expecting Blue and Henry to be with you.” She admitted.

“Did I forget to mention it was just me?” He asked, sounding genuine. She lightly kicked him under the table as he sat down, giving her a grin. He hadn’t forgotten and they both knew it.

“Shuffle.” She requested, handing her deck off to him after knocking on it three times. He took the deck from her, Maura placing her chin in her hand as she watched him.

He picked cards and she placed them where it was appropriate. She squinted, then had him draw three more for each card. She pulled them all back together, had him do another spread. Another, one more, three more, once more.

“What’s the matter?”

“They’re being contradictory and not making any sense.” This relieved him. Mysteries he could solve put him in a place he was familiar with. Maura got up to get Calla. It didn’t matter, the answers were still confusing, still contradictory.

The women exchanged looks. Calla held out her hand for Gansey’s, which he offered without hesitation. He was disturbed with how badly he wanted something to be wrong. Calla narrowed her eyes, yet said nothing.

“...You’re different since the end of your little hunt. I don’t know if it’s bad or if it’s good. I can’t place it. You’re you, but it’s… not. Like if you were to have an identical twin, down to the teeth. You’re separate, but it’s very hard to tell you apart.” She let go. That was all she had. Gansey didn’t understand it. He went home, helplessly full of questions without answers to pair them to. Questions finding their answer usually birthed more questions.

* * *

The crawlspace of Monmouth II was large enough for even Ronan to sit comfortably in, but they would have to crouch if they chose to stand. It wasn’t unusual to find Gansey laying on the cement ground, not doing anything in particular. Sometimes he’d have a book and a gas lantern because he liked the aesthetic of it all, other times his laptop, more often than not nestled into blankets. Blue found him in it often, normalized their unusual space.

He hadn’t remembered getting into the crawlspace. He laid there on his back, listening to the rain outside, listening to his shallow breathing. He slowly lifted his arms from the cement, the cold clinging to him, begging to be apart of him forever. He folded his hands over his chest, the sensation of eyes on him, crawling through him, opening in his pores.

He wondered if this was how it felt to be buried alive.

He heard something scrape the wall next to him. He didn’t move. He couldn’t see in the eclipsing darkness, so he didn’t bother to close his eyes. Something could be hovering over him, taking in his features, mocking them, mirroring them, leaving him with nothing.

“Gansey?” Blue called softly, shining a light into the crawl space. The thing with him retreated, shriveled into itself, cobwebs in the corner. He inhaled, dusted remnants of the dark horror settling into his throat. “...I’m coming in, move over.” She requested, Gansey sliding up against the wall. Between her warmth and the rain cooled brick.

She held her phone against her chest, light shining up at the ceiling. She stared at dust particles float around before her eyes flitted over to Gansey. “...You okay?” He tried to gather words, collect them, dust them off. He loved them, yet he felt as though he hadn’t touched them properly in some time. He reached over for her hand, squeezing it. He hadn’t touched her properly in some time.

“...I’ve been thinking of Noah a lot lately.” He admitted, whispered, the cobwebs in the corner listening with strained ears. They would take him, his thoughts, his secrets. “Everything happened so quickly… I can’t remember the last thing I said to him. Then I feel like time is dragging out to catch up, making things right again— I still feel like I’m dying...”

Blue turned over on her side, untangling her hand from his and tucking it under her neck. She offered him her other hand, Gansey quickly intertwining their fingers and cutting off her circulation.

“What do you need?” She asked. Gansey inhaled, intended to speak, any concept of what he needed escaped him. He shook his head, turned over on his side and pressed his face up against her shoulder. She wound her arms around him, fingers splayed along his back. He exhaled, body trembling, the wind from the storm outside overtaking him.

“It’s okay, I’m right here. I won’t leave you.” She promised, Gansey bawling into her shoulder. Blue was always this marvelous creature he’d found himself pulled to, shoved towards, fumbling, falling, head over heels for. How often she said she hated this crawlspace, yet how often this was the first place she’d look for him. He loved her and Blue loved him more fiercely than any of them, even if no one would admit it outright.

“I keep blacking out— I know I do things, bit I don’t know _what_ I do, where I go… Blue, I’m _scared_.” He choked out. “I keep thinking of how many different stories of the dead coming back and how it ends up unnatural and I feel so _guilty_ about Noah… Blue, I don’t know if I can keep doing this anymore...”

He didn’t know what ‘this’ was. Another part of him howled that ‘this’ was ‘life’ and he should just let it go. He wondered if Noah had struggled with this brand of selfishness. Of wanting to be with everyone, yet unable to do what he needed to. _Don’t throw it away, don’t throw it away._

He was deteriorating, he could feel it. Noah just didn’t have a body to do it in, Gansey did. Noah had loved him more earnestly than they ever could, even if no one would admit it outright. He missed that. He missed him.

Blue gently shushed him, rubbing at his back. “It’s okay, we can figure it out. Do you have a particular time you black out or if you do something specific? Or does it happen if you start to disassociate a lot?” Blue knew him too well. She knew he’d taken notes upon notes upon notes, did his research. He kept so much to himself in spite of always wanting them to know everything. How interpersonal he wanted to be, yet how closed off he was. He sniffed.

“I just know it only happens when I’m alone and when rains.” Blue pulled back just enough to hold either side of his face, to cradle his features with reassurance and unyielding affections. She wiped at his tears, forehead to his. None of their boys were there. She couldn’t tell them to kiss Gansey for her.

“Then this is what we do.”

* * *

Adam had always known how to keep things to himself. The bruises, the vines coiling around him in the mirror, the anxiety, the hallucinations. He hadn’t expected Gansey to be as good at hiding it as he was, so when something of Gansey was left exposed, it always caught him by surprise, made him scramble to try to help cover it up. The first time he’d ever seen signs of Gansey not being okay as he should have been was the caves.

This was worse than the caves. This couldn’t be patched up as easily.

Blue had relayed what Gansey had told her, then told them her plan. Ronan picked up some video camera equipment and helped Blue install it in the house. When the sky grew heavy, they all left Gansey alone in Monmouth II. Adam had glanced over his shoulder and couldn’t help but wonder if Gansey always carried himself that way when he thought no one was looking.

Henry called him as they drove half a mile away. It was mostly Henry chattering away with Gansey humming in reply or simple responses. When it started to drizzle, it filled Adam with dread. It overflowed once Gansey hung up, leaning dangerously close into Ronan’s space to watch him on the video feed.

He turned the phone off completely, then set it under the bed. He looked like he was struggling, each finger working individually at each joint, eyebrow lowering, mouth pulling up. He opened his mouth, exhaled as if he had to remember he was something that needed to breathe.

He cocked his head to the side, turned it, eyes followed after to stare at the camera. He did this with all of them before leaving Monmouth II. Adam had been the first to get up, Blue insisting she take his phone and stay on the line with him.

“No.” Adam had already left it in the car, getting into his shitbox and driving back. Gansey was standing out in the rain, Adam sitting in his car and watching him for a moment. Inhale. Pause. Exhale. Pause. Inhale.

Adam left his car running, but got out of it. “...Gansey?” He asked softly, hesitating. Magic was never done with them, never done with him. He had been grateful when things had fallen into as normal as they could get with them. For Gansey, perhaps these pockets of peculiar happenings were meant to be his normal.

“...It is… hard.” Gansey started, voice with an accent that wasn’t his.

“What’s hard?” He asked, deciding it was best to just be at his side over awkwardly inching closer and closer. It would be unfair to treat him like an animal, like something that could lash out at him. They argued, but he never actually left his side. Adam loved him relentlessly, even if no one would admit it outright. This was no exception.

“...I am used to eyes and hands. The whole thing… is quite a lot.” He explained, one eye turning it’s gaze to Adam, the second following like a coin swaying its way down to the bottom of a pool.

 _Cabeswater_.

Adam wanted to tell Cabeswater that it couldn’t do that, but realized that wasn’t fair. They’d asked it to sacrifice itself to make a human life— they’d asked it something impossible and it had delivered. Yet it lingered, took moments inside of him.

“Can I ask why you’re doing that?” Knowing it was Cabeswater put him at ease to some degree. It was familiar, something that had been in his own head, something that had been Ronan’s.

“We do not know... how to give him life without giving him ours.” It was a half answer, a struggle to speak in english.

“ _Is Latin easier?_ ” Adam asked, not quite sure how much had escaped him since high school. Maybe he should get Ronan. But he didn’t want to leave, not like this.

“ _Much_.” Cabeswater replied, mouth pulling up, then eyes, attempting a smile on Gansey’s features. It looked strained, forced.

“ _So… you’re inside of Gansey, which is keeping him alive?_ ”

“ _Yes and no. He died, that is certain. We cannot make or bring that back if it is completely gone. We copied what we knew of humans, what you knew of him, what we knew of him. We tried our best to remake him. He is a little different. We can see it when you all look at him. Little things we don’t know how to do or make properly._ ”

Adam didn’t understand. Cabeswater was parading around in his body, in a body with a consciousness they made. It said it sacrificed their life for him, yet here it was.  “...That’s not…” Adam started, feeling his chest tighten, heart struggle to keep beating. Gansey was still dead. This was a copy of consciousness, by extension a dream thing. “ _You’re a thing of Ronan’s… if Ronan dies, will you die too… Will… Will Gansey die too?_ ”

“ _That depends on the Greywaren. He is looking for a way to separate himself from his dreams, is he not?_ ” Gansey knew that, so by extension, so did Cabeswater.

“ _Okay but, you said you gave him your life, but you’re still alive._ ” He countered, the rain soaking through his boots. Cabeswater hummed and narrowed Gansey’s eyes at him. He wondered if he’d said something he shouldn’t have. Adam didn’t back down.

“ _That is what we meant, but is not. English is difficult. We cannot leave him, not when we can still fix him, still make him like what you remember. When he is how you remember, we can sleep. We cannot fix him with signal interference._ ” The cellphones.

This was complicated, a question of morals, then if Cabeswater had human morals. “ _People are complicated… Everyone remembers different parts about him and some of them may even be contradictory. Even with you trying to fix him, Gansey should still be able to learn and grow from the experiences he’s currently having. He should be allowed to change, not this stagnant thing we remember._ ”

“ _So… You are saying we should leave him as he is?_ ” Adam nodded. “ _That… we should leave?_ ” Adam nodded. He watched Cabeswater slowly pull Gansey’s features into confusion, as if working through quicksand. The more it worked at his face, the more he realized it was scared. Cabeswater was tied to Gansey. By telling it to leave, it was like telling it to hurry up and die, give Gansey full control.

“... _Are you scared of dying?_ ” Cabeswater let Gansey’s face shift into something neutral, letting everything go. It didn’t answer him. Adam started to wonder if they’d ever get Gansey back if he said the wrong thing.

“... _We felt it when the demon came. We die in parts. The oldest go first, their knowledge and wisdom and all they have seen. We rot. Humans do not rot, they leave their bodies before that. Death for us is more intimate. Sometimes we are eaten alive. Others we are picked apart. Others we are torn limb from limb. Not knowing what comes after is always scary, wouldn’t you agree? Is it fair just to die because the Greywaren tells us to? For him?_ ” For Gansey.

Cabeswater raised Gansey’s arm, bent it at the elbow, pressed it’s palm to Gansey’s chest, each finger bending, clinging to the space over his heart. Trees didn’t throb. They hummed softly, exhaled clear, sunlight filtered air.

Adam could agree that it was by no means fair… but that didn’t make this any easier. Adam put a hand on Gansey’s shoulder. “ _Why did you want my eyes and hands? Weren’t you tired of living that way? You don’t have to die for him, but if Gansey is someone you had to remake, why not remake yourself into him? Stop the divide between what you had to copy and what’s you._ ”

“ _But the problems, the things he does that are not him—_ ”

“ _We can adjust to. Humans are good at adapting. It’s not unusual for humans to act just a little different when we go through something traumatic. You’ll learn that._ ” He reassured, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. Cabeswater hadn’t blinked since it started speaking to him.

“ _...We’ll learn that if we’re him, you mean._ ” Cabeswater corrected. “ _You must love him quite a lot._ ” Adam nodded.

“ _Very much. We all do._ ” Adam’s tone was soft, genuine and honest. They all loved each other very much, but they all knew Gansey was special.

“ _Adam, would you die for someone you loved?_ ” Cabeswater turned Gansey’s head to him, then his eyes, then turned his shoulders. Adam hesitated.

“ _...I feel like that’s a very complicated question. No one wants anyone we love to die for them. But… Gansey is the kind of person willing to die for us. He’s the kind of person who would give you the world if you just asked him… so when it comes to Gansey, at the very least with him, I think I would if there really weren’t any other options. But he’s also the kind of person that wouldn’t forgive us for dying on him._ ” Adam couldn’t help but give a smile that was more painful that he’d intended for it to be.

“ _Love is very important to humans._ ” It was hard to tell if Cabeswater was stating an observation or something it found unusual about them.

“ _It is._ ” Adam agreed. Cabeswater likely didn’t have that. It had kinship, reliability, but love wasn’t something it needed. Cabeswater didn’t need to be nurtured, it just needed to live. Yet here was an option to live because of love, a concept humans valued very much.

“ _...Goodbye, Adam Parrish. We hope we did a good job._ ”

* * *

Gansey rolled over, arm falling over a body, two, someone tugged him against their back, someone pulled him back against them. “I said, I had _dibs_.” Adam grumbled, face buried against Gansey’s collarbone.

“Piss off.” Ronan grumbled behind Gansey, hand pressed against his hip.

“ _Guys_ , go the hell back to sleep.” Blue complained, lacing her fingers with Gansey’s from behind Ronan, Gansey smiling softly. “Or at the very least don’t wake up Henry or he’ll kill you. _I’ll_ kill you.” She warned, hissing under her breath. Gansey tipped his head back, his head in Henry’s lap who’d passed out sitting up. He smiled softly, nestling against all of them.

He felt… better. The last time it rained, nothing happened. Or the time after that. Or that. Or now. Granted, he wasn’t alone now, but the few times he had been, nothing had happened. He felt relieved.

When everyone asked Adam what had happened, he said they just talked, Gansey felt a bit neglected, still a bit scared. He suggested that they thought of Monmouth II of a home and everything else as an extended stay. The Barns had too many old memories, too many projects. Adam never really considered any place a home, but felt the most comfortable at whatever was called Monmouth. Fox Way had always been too small and too crowded. Henry just felt any place with them, be it a cardboard box or a mansion, was good enough to be a home.

So this… this was home. This was comfortable. This was what they all would gravitate back towards. Gansey always ultimately picked their home, but when it came down to it, they’d follow him anywhere. “...Love you guys too.” Gansey was always so embarrassingly quick to admit it outright.


End file.
